Alexandria
by Aleanbh
Summary: How did Rigsby know where Jane's family were laid to rest? Picks up on what was mentioned in 6x08 Red John. Jane x Lisbon, team.


___**AN:** In the aftermath of 6x08 Red John, something that really intrigued me was how Rigsby knew Jane's family were buried at Alexandria Cemetery. I didn't see it mentioned anywhere else, so I just went with it and this is what happened! I've set this post-5x08, so hopefully it'll make sense! I'm thinking I might do a little follow-up with Lisbon questioning Rigsby's knowledge of the graveyard maybe post-6x08, so let me know if it'd be something you'd be interested in reading or if you think it'd be worthwhile:) Want to give a wee shout out to Amelie and Mags, thanks girls :) A little late, but I hope you enjoy. Please review!_

* * *

This day is dragging. Cho has been out for hours trying to chase up a warrant on a suspect, and Van Pelt has gone out to meet a friend, and Rigsby sits alone in the bullpen, trying not to over-think the implications of what such a meeting might mean.

Rigsby becomes aware of approaching footsteps, and then a presence to his left. Jane is standing, lingering at the edge of the bullpen. He looks more unsure of himself than Rigsby is used to seeing.

"Okay, Jane?" Rigsby says, looking up at him from under slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"You seen Lisbon?" Jane's eyes are blinking round the room. Rigsby gets the impression he's in a terrible rush.

"She's gone, Jane," Rigsby says. "She had a meeting down town in City Hall at five, she left a while ago." He stops and looks wholly at Jane. "Everything okay?"

Jane's face falls as he hears Rigsby's reply. He doesn't answer his question. "When will she be back?" He looks worried.

"I don't know, Jane. She left a half hour ago. The meeting is at five, and I suppose it'll take an hour..." he trails off. He knows better than to get involved with one of Jane's schemes, and yet he gets the feeling this is important.

Jane sighs.

"What is it, Jane? Can I help?"

"No, no, not at all." Jane shakes his head. "It's fine." He flashes Rigsby a quick grin, but it falls as he glances around his shoulder to look back at the empty bullpen.

Jane sighs, turns as if to walk away and then turns again to Rigsby. "Cho's not back yet either, no?"

Rigsby shakes his head. "No." He's getting annoyed now. What's so important that he can't help? He knows he should be grateful he's not about to get caught up in one of Jane's wild goose chases, but he feels insulted all the same. He's known Jane just as long as Lisbon or Cho. He turns back to his computer screen and lifts the file he's been working from. Jane is still there, in plain sight in the corner of his eye, lingering.

A moment passes.

"Uh, Rigsby?" Jane's voice is hesitant, unsure.

"Yeah, Jane?" Rigsby doesn't turn around, staying still in his swivel chair. "I'm kind of busy, Jane. I've got to finish these before Lisbon gets back. What is it?"

"Oh." Jane clears his throat, quietly. "Doesn't matter, Wayne, it's fine. Sorry. See you later." He turns and walks away.

_Well, that was unexpected_, Rigsby thinks, immediately turning to look at Jane's retreating back._ What in the world?_

"Jane, wait." Rigsby gets up and goes to follow Jane. He's never known him to back down about something so easily.

Jane turns as he hears his colleague approach. "It's fine, Wayne, don't worry." He smiles, but this time it's small, subdued, done out of politeness, Rigsby knows.

"Jane, come on. What is it?"

Jane's gaze is focused somewhere near Rigsby's shoes. "I was going to ask you for a ride," he says, quickly, almost in a mutter. Rigsby hesitates, lowering his head slightly to try and meet Jane's stare. "a ride to, uh – to the graveyard. My car is still in, uh, the window.. being repaired, and I, I-"

"Sure, Jane. Let me get my coat."

Jane meets his eyes, finally. "Thanks, Rigsby."

Rigsby returns a moment later, and meets Jane at the elevator. He's never been more at a loss for words with Jane. He's never been trusted with something so personal when it comes to Jane, and he's unsure what to do with the privilege. He understands now why Jane wanted Lisbon for this.

He isn't quite sure what to say to Jane right now, and yet, he has never felt closer to him, has never felt more like a friend to the man he has known coming up on ten years. While they all know Jane is on mission of vengeance and revenge, it can be easier than one might think to forget what Jane has lost. Since Ben's birth, Rigsby has a new appreciation for Jane and what he has been through. The loss of two such people will always be horrifying, but since knowing the love of a child, and the joy such a child can bring, Rigsby has a new found respect for his colleague. He knows from Jane's eyes he can't compare to Lisbon - wouldn't want to - and he knows Jane trusts Cho more, thinks him a better agent, but he is the only other member of their team that has had a child, and because of this, he knows he and Jane have a strange unmentionable affinity and understanding of each other that will remain unacknowledged, if only because it would hurt too much to bring it up.

They leave the CBI together, and walk into the chilly evening. Rigsby unlocks the car and they get in. Rigsby waits for Jane to do up his seatbelt, and then asks the question he has been dreading. Details.

He clears his throat. "So, uh, where to?"

Jane's hand pauses, hovering over the seat buckle. "Alexandria Cemetery," he says, and Rigsby feels his heartbeat pick up. This situation has the potential to become extremely uncomfortable extremely quickly, and he's not sure how to react, this in itself made worse by his knowledge that Jane will be reading him and his discomfort like an open book. But the snide comment and smirk do not arrive. Jane is looking out the window as Rigsby pulls out of the car park and onto the road.

"Do you know the way?" Jane asks, his voice light for the solemnity of the topic, but this is Jane after all, and Rigsby is not sure what to expect.

"Think so," Rigsby says, and falls to silence once more.

"I owe you an explanation," Jane says after a while. "When I realised I wouldn't have my car back in time for today, I'd planned on asking Lisbon. But with her meeting, I couldn't be sure she'd be back in time. I'd wanted to go today," Jane stops. "Today-"

"You don't need to explain," Rigsby says, meaning it. He doesn't want Jane to think he's done this favour out of curiosity or nosiness. Jane nods and turns back to the window and the moving landscape outside.

* * *

The evening is closing in as Rigsby kills the engine. Jane undoes his seatbelt. "I won't be long," he murmurs, and then he's gone. Rigsby watches the lone figure retreat from the car in which he sits over to the crowds of headstones opposite and he is suddenly aware of just how alone Jane is. How little he has. How much has been taken from him. Rigsby watches from behind the windscreen as Jane walks away from him and, after following the path that has been laid out for him, his back to where Rigsby waits in the car, he pauses, and then rests at a headstone - two headstones, and Rigsby feels a beat of sorrow for both lives that have been lost and for the one left behind. Rigsby watches from his seat, watches Jane stand between the evening silhouette of the two gravestones.

Despite his earlier claim of respectful indifference, Rigsby can't stop himself wondering why Jane was here today of all days. He recalls the near panic in Jane's eyes at the realisation his Lisbon would not be there to help him, the dread at the thought that he would not be able to make it here in time. Rigsby wonders might today's date hold significance, be a birthday, an anniversary – of either wedding or death. Rigsby has never known Jane to visit his family's graves before, and yet before today he's never really had much experience with Jane's personal life. It occurs to him that despite it all, he doesn't really know all that much about Jane. The thought makes him feel strangely guilty. Sometimes it's too easy to dismiss Jane as an annoying complication, a thorn in Lisbon's side, too easy to forget all that he has suffered.

Rigsby sits on in the car. He tries to avoid watching Jane, desperately wanting to prove that he can be trusted, wanting not to give Jane any reason for regretting involving him in this, but watching him here, where he for once is not in control of the situation is addictive. But Rigsby feels bad for it, and tries to distract himself. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, fiddles with the radio, and then turns it off, thinking it might be disrespectful to listen to some pop trash while Jane mourns his dead little girl and the much loved wife that bore her.

Rigsby looks out the other window and sees the long stretch of graves before him. It makes him think of his own father, recently dead and put in a grave just like one of these. Jane had shook his hand on hearing his bad news. He wishes he could do something to comfort Jane now. Everyone has lost someone, he knows, but that doesn't stop him feeling such sorrow for his colleague of nearly ten years. He thinks of his son, and shakes his head a little at the unimaginable loss of such a child. He finds it hard to even think about, so he thinks of Van Pelt instead. She would know what to say to Jane now. She's always been such a comforting presence when he's feeling low. She'd be the same to Jane, he thinks. But Rigsby knows Jane would prefer Lisbon here, and not Van Pelt, or Cho or him. He's glad they're close. They've got each other, and he hopes they never lose out on each other. They deserve more. When Rigsby thinks of loss, he can't help but think of Grace, and everything that was once between them that no longer is. It gives him the smallest notion of how Jane must feel from day to day. Things that once were that no longer are. It covers a large spectrum.

Rigsby looks back at Jane through the window. Jane happens to turn then, and catching his eye, nods to him. Is he beckoning him over? Rigsby doesn't know what to do. The last thing he wants to do is misinterpret and intrude, but he doesn't want to ignore Jane if he is in need of a friend, either.

Bracing himself, Rigsby undoes his seatbelt and opens his car door and gets out. He knows Jane is amazingly perceptive and probably could hear him breathe while he was still in the car, but even so, Rigsby tries to alert him to his oncoming presence as much as he can in case he has misunderstood in which case Jane can at least be warned of the oncoming intrusion. Rigsby coughs, walks purposely on a gravelly patch of ground. He thinks that that should do it. Rigsby is approaching closely now, without a clue of what to do or say. He is close enough to see the names on the headstones. Angela. Charlotte. Pretty names.

"Okay?" Jane says, hands in his pockets, his voice quiet.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Well.. you know."

"Yeah."

They are quiet.

"I'm sorry about your father, Rigsby," Jane says.

"Yeah, well.. that's life I suppose." Strangely Rigsby feels uncomfortable with his father's death to be compared to that of Jane's wife and daughter, who were so pure, and beautiful, and innocent. Death truly was the ultimate leveller.

"That's life," Jane repeats.

A pause.

"And life goes on," Jane murmurs. "Or so they say."

"Damn right," Rigsby says. He knows this to be true.

Jane turns a bit then as if to go, and then turns back to the grave, affectionately nudges its surround softly with the tip of his toe.

They turn then and walk back together to the car, Rigsby feeling closer and more allied to Jane than he has ever done in the past, than he ever thought possible before.

* * *

They pull into the CBI car park and Rigsby sees that Jane's mask has fallen back into place. He follows Jane's line of sight and sees that Lisbon's car is back in its usual place. He wonders what Jane is thinking. He wonders how this would have gone if Lisbon had been in her office when Jane had come calling for her. He wonders just how close they have become over the last few years.

The events of the last hour just makes him want to go home and take Benjamin into his arms, so he needs to get back inside and finish his paperwork so he can make it happen. He pulls the key out of the ignition and undoes his seatbelt.

"Alright," he says, opening the car door.

Jane reaches a hand out to stop him. "Rigsby, just- thanks. I appreciate it a lot."

Rigsby nods. "Anytime, Jane."

Jane smiles, and opens his door. They enter their building together, and in a moment they are small-talking their way through the front foyer, up the elevator and into the bullpen, where they are met by Lisbon, a suspicious and bemused pout gracing her features.

"And where have you two been?" she says, one eyebrow cocked, but a slight lightness to her voice which threatens to fade as she sees Rigsby look to Jane, unsure of how to react. He knows this has been out of the ordinary for Jane who has always kept the private private, and he doesn't want to intrude. Lisbon is looking increasingly concerned, ready to jump in with her best attempt to save the day, but Jane just shrugs with a small smile, his gaze never leaving Lisbon's, who only breaks her stare to throw her eyes to the heavens as satisfied, she dismisses their absence as nothing more than Jane's usual divilment. She goes into her office and Jane follows directly in her wake, Rigsby immediately forgotten by the pair, the door swinging shut behind them just in time for him to see Jane settling himself into what is fast becoming his spot in the plush cushions of Lisbon's white sofa. The blinds on the door are open though, and Jane catches Rigsby's eye, and gives him a small smile. And then Rigsby can hear the low hum of Lisbon's voice as she talks to Jane, and Jane snaps to her attention, and Rigsby knows this episode is at a close. He laughs as he watches Jane through the blinds, watches him watching Lisbon, and he wonders if Jane realises how he always seems to be at his happiest while in her presence. He won't see much more of either of them tonight, he is waiting to get home to Ben.

This thought in mind, Rigsby then walks away from the low voices emitting from Lisbon's office and takes his seat in the bullpen. He finishes the forms in admittedly not the most thorough way he's ever done, desperate to return home, and in twenty minutes he's packing up to leave. He knows Lisbon will be waiting on them, so he doesn't think before returning to her door and giving it a quick rap on the glass before opening it.

It takes Rigsby a moment to realise that he's walked in on something. Jane is sitting facing the door, in the same spot Rigsby saw him sit down in earlier, and he has been looking at the floor, but he looks up as Rigsby enters the room. Lisbon is sitting beside Jane on her sofa, facing Jane side-on. Rigsby is not sure she even realises he has entered the room, and the look on her face, the pain crossing her face as she looks so desperately at Jane makes him wonder what on earth she has found out, what in the world Jane has just told her. Rigsby doesn't know what to do. Lisbon has finally realised he is there, and she is looking up at him with such a blank expression that it makes him wonder why he is even there at all.

"Sorry, Boss," he says, in a loud voice that seems to echo around the room. He needs to get out of here. "Here are the forms you needed." He places them into her hand when she doesn't make a move to take them. Her fingers close round the sheets of paper.

"Alright. Good night. See you tomorrow." He steals another look at the pair, cocooned in the corner of an office on a darkening, dusky evening, and then closes the door quickly behind him.

After feeling so allied with Jane today, he now feels a step out of time with the two. Just this evening he'd wondered about their closeness, he realises now he'd had no idea at the depth of feeling the two shared. His immediate reaction is alarm, followed closely by a desperate need to inform Cho of this development. This in turn is followed with the sudden knowledge that Cho would object violently to hearing anything of the sort, and Rigsby, stepping away from the office he has just departed, smiles with the realisation that he'll be keeping what he witnessed, whatever it was that he has just witnessed, to himself. Rigsby doesn't know what exactly is between Jane and his boss, perhaps he never will; but he hopes they're as close to happiness as they can be. They both deserve that much.


End file.
